Of Cabbages and Queens
by LadyNemisis24
Summary: Sir Integra has a choice. Either marry and beget an heir, or recognise the only other Hellsing, the daughter of Richard. On hiatus for the moment.
1. Prologue

_I don't own Hellsing.  That's kind of obvious._

PROLOGUE

"Sir Hellsing."

"Your Majesty."

"Sit down, Sir Knight.  We have much to discuss."

Integra straightened from her bow and sat in the gilded chair across an expanse of mahogany from her Queen.  Although she would die before showing it, she was nervous.  It was rare that one would receive a private audience, and even more rare that the elderly Queen requested one.  And from the tone of the letter, it was a demand.  _Please, God,_ Integra prayed, _not again._

Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the second, looked across the table and met Integra's eyes.  There was still steel in this genteel old lady, and iron will that had survived the death of mother, Consort and eldest son.

"Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing."  Yet she did sound tired.  "You have served us well and faithfully as a Knight of the Round Table for many years, and for this we are most grateful.  But you still refuse to see the problem before you.  Your lack of an heir."

Integra gritted her teeth.  "Your Majesty, -" she began.

The Queen lifted her hand, commanding silence.  "The House of Windsor has done it's utmost to provide you with a suitable husband."  She lifted a paper from the desk in front of her.  "Let us recall.  Lord Marcus Gailsworthy.  In an institution, babbling about people walking through walls.  Sir Francis' eldest son, Edward.  Withdrew his suit after an unfortunate 'accident'."  Integra could hear the doubt in the Queen's voice on the word 'accident'.  "Sir Thomas White, who entered a monastery two weeks after agreeing to court you.  Shall I continue?"

Mutely, Integra shook her head.  In truth, she was trying not to laugh.  It seemed to her that all it took to be a male aristocrat in England today was the right parents and the ability to be a git.  None of the men the Queen had sent to court her had been a match, mentally or physically.  And she'd be damned before she'd muzzle Hellsing's most effective weapon just because he scared some petty lordling.

Elizabeth sighed.  Putting the paper back, she leaned forward in her chair.  "Integra," the casual name sounded awkward.  "The Royal Order of Protestant Knights must continue.  And should you die without an heir, that creature you control would be masterless, which would be a disaster for Great Britain.  You have just passed your thirty-third birthday.  Your time is running out."

Integra shifted uneasily.  "If your Majesty will permit my saying so, I needn't marry at all.  With artificial insemination –"

"No."  Her voice was firm.  "Forgive an old lady her prejudices, but a child should be conceived from man and woman, not woman and test tube.  No, I called you here to give you a choice, Sir Hellsing."

There was a warning in that voice.  Integra sat up straighter.  "My Queen?"

Elizabeth shuffled her papers once again.  "Your uncle Richard's only child was recently orphaned.  She is nineteen years old and living in France in a boarding school."  Her tone suddenly changed.  "We have added this girl to the list of the aristocracy as the only other living Hellsing.  Our command to you is this.  Either marry and beget an heir, or recognise the sole child of Richard Hellsing, your cousin, as the next leader of the Royal Protestant Knights."

Integra felt like she'd been punched.  Either allow some male to turn her into nothing more than a brood mare for the next Hellsing, or allow the child of her uncle, the man who tried to kill her, to take over her sacred duty.  Her mind raced.

"Your answer, Sir Hellsing?"

"If your Majesty will allow it, I would look the girl over for a week or two.  I know almost nothing of her."  That would at least give her time to plan a way out of this.

A small frown appeared on the Queen's face.  "There are not many that would attempt to bargain with the Queen.  Is a husband such and evil fate, Sir Knight?"  Integra let silence be her only answer, letting her face show nothing.  A sigh escaped the Queen.  "Very well, Sir Hellsing.  You will send for this child and I expect you for an audience two weeks after her arrival."  She slid a dossier across the table.  "She has been living on the remainder of her mother's ancestral fortune, but at this point she is almost penniless."

Integra took the folder and opened it.  A glossy photograph was at the top of the stack, of an unsmiling face shown in profile.  Messy dark brown hair and one green eye were featured.  A name was printed at the bottom of the photo in bold black type against the white.

"You are dismissed, Sir Hellsing."

Integra rose, bowed, backed up five steps then left through the door the Queen's minder held open for her.  She swept though the halls of the palace, ignoring the squeaky little official who tried to keep pace and escort her out.  She was already making plans for the weeks to come, for the arrival of this child.  This daughter of Richard, Genevieve Hellsing.


	2. Chapter 1

_As before, I don't own Hellsing._

I paid the cabbie with most of my remaining euros.  At least I had my plane ticket home, I consoled myself, and Catherine had promised to keep my place at the school open, so in that at least I was safe.  Memories of home, of Mama, danced at the edges of my thoughts, and I shook my head angrily to dispel them.  Still, a bittersweet ache rested in my chest and I picked up my battered suitcase and looked at the imposing gates before me.  A feeling akin to awe replaced all my remembrances.  Through the bars, trees bordered a well-kept drive, and a massive house loomed in the distance.

A discreet cough made me jump.  "'Scuse me, Miss, but tourists 'aint allowed."

I swallowed hard and fumbled in my pocket.  "I'm not a tourist."  I removed the paper stamped with the insignia that graced the gates.  "I'm a guest.  Sort of."  _I think_, I mentally added.

The guard took the paper whilst looking me over, taking in everything, from the dusty, cracked ex-Army boots, to the faded jeans, the oversize black shirt and grey trench coat over the top.  He noticed the three piercings in my right ear, and the one in the right hand side of my lower lip.  A mass of loose brown curls and green eyes rounded out my appearance.  He had what suspiciously looked like amusement in his eyes as he nodded and beckoned me towards the gatehouse.

"I'll 'ave to call this in, Miss, so don't go runnin' off."  He began to talk into the walkie-talkie clipped to his shoulder, _sotto voce_.  The only part I heard was the end of the conversation.  "Right you are, sir.  Post one, out."  He handed me the letter back, and the laughter was plain in his eyes.  "If you wait a minute, I'll call a car from the house."

"I've got two legs," I blurted before I could stop myself.  "I'll walk."

"It's a long way, Miss, but it's up to you," he said with an open grin.  He opened a smaller gate to the right of the main one.  "Just follow the drive."

I thanked him and slipped through.  I could have sworn I heard him laughing as I moved down the drive, but I dismissed it, as I had more pressing matters on my mind.  The natural beauty of the place was stunning.  I was walking in the shadows of ancient trees just off the shoulder of the drive.  Yet the beauty didn't distract me from my worries.

So much had happened in such a short time, I felt as if the very earth had tiled on it axis.  Only just after the wounds of Mama's death had lost their rawness, I had received a letter from the Privy Council of the Queen of England, advising me that my name had been place on the rolls of the peerage.  Mama had told me that my father had done something terrible, causing him and his progeny (being me) to be struck.  Now I could demand the title of Lady, which still made me laugh.  Then the kicker arrived three days later.  A letter, under the Hellsing family coat of arms no less, requesting my attendance at the family seat.  The letter had included my plane tickets, and instructions to reach the mansion.  With my head still in a mess, I'd asked Catherine for time off.  She thought I was still grieving for my mother, so had granted it.  I'd told no one of the title or the summons.  I was afraid they'd think me mad.

I stood in the shadow of the house before I knew it.  Large, imposing and shadowy were the first words that came to mind as I started up the steps.  Half of the wooden door swung inwards as I reached the top step, revealing a man with silver hair pulled back into a tidy ponytail at the nape of his neck.  His monocle caught the light as he stepped forwards, a bit stiffly, but gracefully nonetheless.  He smiled at me in what seemed like genuine welcome.

"Miss Hellsing, welcome."  He gave a slight bow.  "I am Walter Kum Dourne, retainer to the Hellsing family."

I smiled shyly and extended my hand.  "It's Genevieve, or just Gen.  I've been a Du Prión, since I was born, so if you call me Hellsing I'll probably look over my shoulder for someone else."  Damn, I was babbling.  I always did when I was nervous.  He took my hand in a firm shake, but his eyes widened when he got a good look at my face.  I was happy he managed not to ask 'Did that hurt?', because I probably would have screamed.  I watched him mentally rearrange things as he released my hand and gestured for me to precede him.

"Sir Integra has been awaiting you arrival, but she's currently occupied.  I'll show you to the room we have prepared for you for the time you're with us.  Can I take your case?"

"Um, no, it's OK," I returned as I stepped into the mansion.  The sheer size of the place took my breath away.  Ahead, a grand switch back staircase lead to another floor, with a set of stone steps leading down beneath them.  Other doors promised more rooms, but the old retainer was leading me up the stairs before I got to see more.

The second floor swept both left and right from the top of the stairs.  We turned left and headed along the hallway to a room about half way down.  Walter pushed the door open and motioned to me.  "This will be your room."  As I stepped inside, my jaw dropped.  The first thing I noticed was the enormous four-poster bed draped around with gauzy curtains.  The second was the French doors leading to a small balcony.  The rest of the room was richly appointed, with ankle deep carpets, a comfortable looking chair, and a dresser and wardrobe that matched the bed.

"Does the room suit you, Miss… Du Próin?"  I heard the hesitation before my surname.  I turned back to the old man and smiled.

"I always dreamed about having a bedroom like this.  This is wonderful."  He nodded, and placed a hand on the doorknob.

"If you'd care to freshen up, I'll come back and escort you when Sir Integra is available."  He softly closed the door behind him, leaving me in luxury, but alone.


	3. Chapter 2

_I don't own Hellsing.  Well, duh._

I removed my trench coat and placed my suitcase on top of the dresser.  As I began to unpack, I studiously avoided my own eyes in the mirror, so I wouldn't have to acknowledge my fears and anxieties.  Unpacking done, I wandered around the room, finding an attached, small, modern bathroom as well.  I splashed my face with water, and then began to brush my hair in an attempt to try and distract myself.  I gave up and wrestled my curls into a plait that hung halfway down my back, then returned to the main room to try and find something to do to curb the butterflies in my stomach.

Why had I come?  It wasn't as if I had nowhere else to go.  Mama's house in Florida had been sold years ago, but I was on friendly terms with the owners and they invited me to stay on a regular basis.  Catherine had made it plain that I would always have a room at St. Mary's.  I finally met my own eyes in the mirror as I spoke the reason aloud.  "This is a desperate attempt to stave off being an utter orphan.  Knowing I have a cousin, and meeting her, means I'm not completely alone."  Just speaking that aloud actually made me feel a little better.  _Besides,_ I thought, moving out onto the small terrace, _it's a two week vacation where I get to live a life of the rich and shameless._

The view from the balcony was wonderful.  Directly below was a small, formal garden, bordered by large trees.  The rest of the grounds spread away in front of me, with plants everywhere.  To my left and the side of the mansion was a large, semi detached building that was far too modern to match the rest of the picturesque setting.  As I sat on the rail that bordered the balcony and rolled a small cigarette, I tried to guess what it would be for.  From this angle, it looked almost like a garage, but for the size.  Maybe Sir Hellsing collects cars, I mused.

As I smoked, I tried to imagine what she'd be like.  Older, certainly.  From the tone of the letter, she seemed the typical, stiff upper lip British aristocrat.  Bad teeth, most likely.  Probably plump from too little exercise, and obsessive about her pedigree.  Mama had known her briefly when she was a child, but never told me much but Sir Integra's name.  In fact, Mama had been close mouthed about her entire life as the wife of Richard Hellsing, and from the relief and guilt that was always in her eyes when I asked about my father; I knew the time had not been happy.  I had stopped asking questions when I was thirteen or fourteen, for I finally understood how much it hurt her to remember.  Plainly put, he was probably an abusive asshole, and I was more than a little glad he died six months before I was born.

My musings were interrupted by a knock at the door.  Stepping back into the room, I called "Yes?", knowing full well it would be the retainer.

He pushed open the door and said "Sir Integra will see you now."  I nodded, and followed him back down the corridor.  We climbed another set of stairs, finally arriving at a large pair of doors.  Walter knocked firmly, then opened them.  "Miss Genevieve Du Próin, Sir Integra."  He ushered me into the room and quietly shut the door behind me.

The slender woman behind the desk stared at me for a few moments as I stared at her.  She was nothing like what I had imagined.  She wore an olive-green suit and a blue tie at her throat, stapled with a cross shaped pin.  She had long, platinum blonde hair and intense blue eyes behind large rimless glasses.  Small, fine lines, almost invisible, sprayed out from the corners of those eyes, but aside from them there was no other indication of her age.  She could have been in her early twenties for all I could tell.  Her gloved hands were clasped and resting on the desk in front of her, and, as she stared at me, unsmiling, I felt a sense of power, of _gravity_, radiate from her.  She was as beautiful and regal as a statue of some ancient warrior god, and I found myself intimidated into silence before I had uttered a word.

This may be the last of this for a while, as I've got some original ideas I'll be developing.  The speed of preceding chapters will depend on readers' reactions.  ^_^


	4. Chapter 3

_Damn. I only just found out that I accidentally overwrote this chapter. Anyway, I don't own Hellsing. And sorry. Things should make a little more sense now. :D_

I leaned against the door outside her office, head bowed, feeling my hands shake. No wonder my first impression of my cousin compared her to a statue – the woman was as hard and unyielding as rock! She'd had this little file on her desk, and from it, proceeded to lay out my life, from my place of birth (Versailles, France), to my scholastic records (academically excellent, athletically poor), to the fact that none of my relatives were living. When she'd asked it there was anything she'd missed, I'd added that I could juggle, in the hope I'd get her to crack a smile. It hadn't worked.

She'd bluntly informed me that the cellars and the firing range were off limits unless I was escorted, then told me I was dismissed and that Walter would take me on a tour. I staggered out the door, so stunned at my unexpected dismissal that I didn't think to ask why she needed a firing range.

My breathing was a little more even by the time the butler showed up. My heart thundered in my chest and I jumped when he called my name. I pressed a hand to my chest and tried by sheer willpower to calm my heartbeat as he made a beckoning gesture to me. "Come along, Miss Du Prion. I'm to give you the grand tour."

"Oh," was all I managed. I fell into step with the old man, fighting a losing battle with myself. "Is she always like that?" I blurted.

"Excuse me?" he asked curiously.

"My cousin, Integra. Is she always so… restrained?" I substituted restrained for the word I really wanted to use, which was 'cold'.

"Sir Integra?" He paused a step, as if considering it for the first time. "Yes, I suppose she has." We had cleared the steps and were moving towards the doors to the side of the grand entryway. He opened one of them into a dining hall. "This will be where your meals will be served. Breakfast and luncheon will be buffet style, but dinner will start at 7 pm." And I knew his little comment would be all I would get from him about my cousin.

"So, why does my cousin have a firing range?" I asked as we moved back into the entry way and down the front steps, hoping to startle another honest answer out of him. But the butler just smiled.

"I believe that's for Sir Integra to tell you in her own time. But for now, would you like to see it? You could also meet the rest of our… staff."

I heard the pause before the word, but found myself nodding. I gave a resigned, internal sigh. _What else do I have to do?_ I thought, as I followed the retainer through the sunshine.

Half an hour later I was wondering why I'd been so stupid. I had a rifle socked into my shoulder, which ached from the recoil, and I was getting angrier by the second. The other people in the room, the mercenary troop the Wild Geese, were snickering every time I missed – which was every shot. I think their captain, Pip Bernadotte, noticed how mad I was getting by my clenched jaw and bared teeth.

"Yer not aiming right. The guns' gonna kick a shocker – get ready for it."

I sighed, tensed up, and pulled the trigger again. The snicker went up again, but I felt a small sense of achievement – I'd blown a small hole in the upper right hand corner of the paper target.

"Good," the young captain approved. "Again."

By the last shot in the gun I was managing to hit the target somewhere in the black outline. I smiled at Pip as he took the rifle away. At least he'd managed to get my mind off my audience, and the audience had wandered off when it was clear I would no longer react. "Thanks," I said. "That was, um, instructional."

He grinned back. "Any time." He gave me a lazy salute as Walter came back to claim me. We moved away from the range in silence. I could help but massage my right shoulder.

"I could show you the gardens next, Miss Du Prion," he offered.

"Actually," I replied, wincing, "if you could show me some ice, I'd be more grateful."

After chilling my shoulder for a while, Walter took me on a tour of the grounds. There were some of the most beautiful gardens I'd ever seen, and roses bloomed in profusion. I saw the motor pool, the barracks, the rest of the mansion, and was pleasantly shocked at the library. The butler hurried me out of it before I really got a chance to examine any of the books, though, telling me there'd be time for that later. As we recrossed the entrance heading for the dining hall and lunch, I pointed out the staircase leading down. "What's down there?" I asked, my face and voice as innocent as I could make them.

"Oh, nothing really," he said, his face turned away. "Just a few old rooms we don't use much."

"Then why do I need an escort to go down there?"

"It's a rat warren of passages," Walter replied, opening the door to the dining hall. "You could easily get lost." I nodded as if I believed him, and followed him through to the food. _What the hell is going on here?_ I thought to myself. _Everything in this house is a damn secret_. I piled a plate with food and sat down at the large table. _I'd better get some answers soon; otherwise I'm liable to snap_.

Walter turned to leave, and I called out to him. "Aren't you eating?"

"I have other things to do," he replied, but not unkindly. "I'll return after your meal."

Hastily, I waved a hand, hoping to forestall him. "I'll be fine. I'll go spend some time in the gardens." I looked down at my plate and realised how much food I'd grabbed. "And probably nap," I added.

He nodded slowly. "If you're certain…" he left it hanging, then gave a little shrug. "Dinner is at seven, so do not be late." He turned and exited, and I noticed a little limp in his right leg. _He must be pushing eighty_, I thought, _surely he should have retired by now._ I gave a little shrug of my own, and then applied myself to my food. _Oh well, that's not my problem._

I had no intention of going into the gardens. As soon as I was done eating, I was going down into that cellar, Integra be damned. I realised that I was planning on doing something solely on the basis that it would piss her off if I was found out, but I didn't care. I even found myself smiling as I finished my meal. I rose, and looked down at the plate, then around the room. A figure dressed in a white apron approached, bobbed a little curtsey, and took the dish away. _Great, I don't even have to do my own dishes._ Happily, I left the room and slipped towards the stair case leading down, the thrill of adventure coursing through me.

It took a lot of effort to push the iron door open, and it made a terrible noise. Hastily, I slipped through when it was wide enough to accommodate me, then creaked it closed. The widely spaced lights seemed dim when compared to the dark, but there was still enough light to see by. _Some rat warren,_ I thought, looking at the corridor that lead straight from the stairs and down a corridor. I moved down the stairs, my steps echoing strangely from the stone. Trying a few doors, I found them all locked, to my disappointment. _What, did you think Integra kept the severed heads of her husbands down here? _I giggled a little at the image, then realised that the Ice Maiden would never have been married. Ever.

My disappointment rose as I rounded a corner, still trying doors. There was nothing here. So why the hell was she so damned obvious about wanting to keep me away? I came around another corner and stopped, surprise on my face. There was a table and a high backed chair sitting in the middle of the corridor, with a bottle of wine and a few glasses sitting on the tabletop. A bare bulb dangled from the ceiling, lighting the scene quite well. The chair itself had a deep pit in the leather, as if someone spent a lot of time sitting in it. _This is it? My cousin has a little hide away where she comes to get drunk, and she doesn't want to share it?_ I laughed out loud, my breath stirring the cobwebs that festooned the ceiling.

"That so twigs," I said aloud. "She comes down here and drinks alone in the dark." I laughed again, and then walked forwards. Hesitating for only a moment, I settled into the chair and ran a finger over the glass on the table, where it was conveniently at my elbow. It was surprisingly comfortable, the leather a deep red and pinned in place by brass tacks._ She must spend a lot of time down here_, I thought. _Who would have picked it?_ I sank back, lifting one foot onto my knee and looking around. It was private and absolutely silent. No noise from upstairs filtered down to this little hideaway. I glanced at the bottle, then gave a little grin and pulled it towards me. The wine inside was viscous, clinging to the sides as it sloshed around.

As I went to pull the cork, I heard a noise behind me. I frowned, putting down the bottle. "Hello?" I called out, then immediately felt stupid. _Who else is dumb enough to be down here?_ But for some reason, the skin between my shoulder blades was crawling. I stood up and looked around into the darkness behind the chair, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention. "Hello?" I demanded again, so sure that someone was watching me. Fear crawled in my stomach, not a comfortable feeling after the size my lunch was. _What the hell is going on here?_ I began to back towards the entrance, feeling stupid, but still feeling scared. It was as if the shadows were moving, crawling with a life of their own, coming towards me. I didn't wait to see any more, but spun and raced for the stairs.

Panting, I climbed them, yanking the door wide and running through, pulling it closed behind me. I rested my back against it, my legs shaking. _Great, just great. My cousin lives in a haunted house,_ I thought. I pulled myself up the stairs, and after checking to make sure no one was watching, I slipped across the hall and out into the sunshine, immediately feeling better with its gentle light on my skin. I padded into the largest garden I could find, and sank down, resting my back against a tree.

Sitting in the sun, feeling safe and secure, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. A weak laugh escaped me as I though about what had just happened. "Girlie girl, you got the heebie-jeebies bad," I said aloud. "It's just a cellar." I smiled then. "All your life you've wanted to see a ghost, and the one time you may get the chance, you run like demons are on your tail." Opening my eyes, I watched the patterns of shade and light dance across the lush grass. "Idiot."

Surrounded by the scent of growing things, a feeling of contentment began to fill me. I lay down, half in the sun, half in shade, and watched the bugs crawl, trying to sort out my first impressions of this place. _All right, number one, Integra is pretty much a bitch. Number two, everyone else seems ok. The butler is British enough to make my hair hurt, but I can deal. Number three, the cellar is haunted._ I laughed again. _How can she stand it down there? She must have nerves of ice to match the exterior._ Watching the bugs crawl busily amongst the grass, I lapsed into thinking about home. _Since it's a Sunday, they would have just finished lunch after mass. They'd be cleaning up the dishes, laughing and joking, enjoying the quiet and the respite from the students. Sasha would have been scolded at least once for blasphemy by now,_ I thought, a wistful smile curling my lips. _And then they'll settle down to do the marking and the next weeks' lesson plans in the main hall, enjoying each other's company. Michelle and Mari would be trading good-natured teasing about each other's teaching methods._

I rolled onto my back. _Well, it was your stupid idea to come here;_ I scolded myself, _so just live with it._ Folding my arms beneath my head, I allowed the hypnotic movement of the trees' branches to lull me into sleep.

I woke up when I got cold. I glanced at my watch and swore. 6:57 pm. "Dammit!" I exclaimed, lunging to my feet and running for the house. Dishevelled and grass stained, I burst through the dining hall door at a run, grabbing at it as I passed in an attempt to slow my forward momentum. What really stopped me was surprise. Walter was present, and the same damn maid, but my cousin was nowhere to be seen. Walter held a chair for me, his glance taking in everything about my appearance. He said nothing, but every muscle in his body spoke of his disapproval. I crept into my chair, and sat, looking down at my grass stained hands. The maid placed a bowl of water at my elbow and a towel, and, gratefully, I washed my hands. There was a tug at my hair, and I turned to see the butler removing a twig from my braid. I felt myself blush, and looked down again to hide it. I could have sworn I heard laughter in his voice when he spoke.

"Sir Integra regrets that she will not be able to join you for dinner this evening."

"She doesn't really, does she?" I asked before I could stop myself, looking up. I saw his jaw muscles twitch as he obviously swallowed a smile.

"I think perhaps you should retire after you've finished your meal," he said, "and not wander about the… halls." _Damn, how did he find out?_

"I'll be good," I said meekly. He gave a slight bow.

"Then I will bid you good evening, Miss." He turned and left the room once again, and I thought about just how often I saw the man's back. The maid began serving the food, and, as the soup was placed in front of me, I considered once again just how strange this place was. _Life styles of the rich and shameless indeed_, I harrumphed internally. Sipping from the wine glass in front of me, I sighed softly. At least someone had good taste in wine. And hopefully I could get tipsy enough to ignore the questions that were screaming at me. I sighed again and started on the soup.

When I made my way to my bed, I was more than a little tipsy. I'd asked the maid to leave the bottle, and dutifully, she had. Five glasses later, I pulled on my nightdress and crawled into bed, leaving the balcony doors open to catch the evening breezes. Alcohol fuelled tiredness washed over me, and, gratefully, I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

It was dark. I felt dry, brittle. I had been here for so long, for so very long... I let the thought drift. It didn't matter. This was how it was meant to be. Suddenly, there was light, movement, the deafening report of a gun in an enclosed space. A hot, metallic scent filled the air, one I'd lusted after for so long. Fresh, virgin blood. I strained towards it, yearning towards it with all my being. Instinct took control, leaning me forward, my arms dragging back and upwards at a steep angle. I touched my tongue to cold stone for an instant before brushing against its warm purity. Salt and copper mixed in the taste, and with long, sensuous strokes I cleaned it up from the floor of my prison.

_I struggled through the waters of sleep, repulsed by the fabric of my dreaming. Yet it was as if something held me back, pulled me down, kept me in that dream. With a whimper, I returned to it._

Looking up, I felt my lips curl in a savage grin as I looked at the group of foolish men standing inside the room. One stood on the stone stairs leading down, wearing a brown suit and a purple tie, lines of cruelty etched on his face, pointing a gun in my general direction. The others cowered at the foot of the steps, looking at me with mingled looks of fear and disgust. I slurped my tongue back into my mouth with the loudest noise I could manage. They smelled so good. They smelled like dinner.

With an almost indifferent movement of my arms, I ripped through the bindings that had held my arms pinioned for such a long, long time. I leapt across the room in one bound and before one of them could scream, I ripped his face off. The body slumped to the floor as I held the portion of flesh above my mouth and delighted in the red stream flowing from it and drenching the lower half of my face. The man on the stairs screamed at the others to fire. I ignore the bullets and tore them apart like they were made from paper. I grabbed the arm of the leader, and yanked, removing it from his body. With a spurt of the claret, his gun clattering to the floor, he slumped against the wall beside the stairs. Turning then, I regarded the last person in the room.

She was kneeling on the cold stone floor, gun held loosely in one small hand. She was a tiny, perfect thing, long, pale blonde hair surrounding a childish face, with intense blue eyes hiding behind over-sized glasses. Those eyes were wide with shock as she stared at me. I flicked a glance at the seeping wound on her upper left arm and my grin was back. "So you are the one that has awakened me."

"Don't come any closer to me, you monster," she said in a shaking voice, lifting the gun.

I grinned. "Your sweet blood was the first I've tasted in over twenty long years."

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth became a thin line. She raised the gun and fired. I ignored the momentary pain in my skull. Her bullets couldn't hurt me. They didn't even wipe my smile away. Fast as thought, I dropped to my knees and slammed both hands into the wall beside her head. She did not even flinch back, simply pointed the gun at my right eye. This girl was fun! "Those souls who suffer their righteous will know their eternal inheritance."

"Foul demon!" she snapped. "I am the lord and master of Hellsing Organisation, Integra Wingates Hellsing! I would die before allowing a vampire to order me!"

I smirked at her. "That gun is useless against me. Give up, little girl, and listen-"

Then she interrupted me! "Shut up!" she shouted. "I will never give up! I would die before giving up! It is my duty and pride as the leader of the Hellsing Organisation!"

I threw back my head and laughed, long and loud. I was fascinated by the scent that rose from her, an intoxicating mixture. _It is fear and fury, a voice whispered._ She smelled delicious. "Wonderful, just wonderful. You are your fathers daughter." I moved away, lowering my arms to my sides, but remaining on one knee. "Forgive my impertinence, Sir Hellsing. Your orders, my Master?" Her blue eyes were once again round with shock.

"Ridiculous!" a harsh male voice said from behind me. "The brat and a beast! Dammit! I am the leader of Hellsing! Hellsing is mine!" I heard the click of the trigger, felt the approach of the bullet. Lazily, I stretched out my right arm and felt the burn as the bullet buried itself in my forearm.

"Your blood rots," I sneered. "You are not the master of this house." The girl shifted forwards, lifting the gun and pointing.

"What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Alucard. That's what they called me," I replied just as softly. She rested her cupped hands on my arm and began to squeeze the trigger.

"Thank you," she whispered.

With the thunder of a gunshot sounding in my ears I ejected myself from sleep, waking into an unfamiliar room in a soft bed. Gods, it was so real! I could feel the stone under my knee, taste the blood on my tongue, smell... My mouth dropped open. Was that... Integra? As a child? No, I told myself firmly, it was a dream. Just a freaky, tripped out dream. But dawn was staining the curtains orange before I managed to fall asleep.

A pounding drum dragged me awake. Blinking, I sat up, a sleepy frown on my face. It wasn't drums. It was someone knocking on the door. I staggered out of bed and hauled it open, and ended up with the butlers fist a few inches from my nose. We both jumped back and regarded each other. He was immaculately dressed in suit pants, vest and tie. I was wearing a short nightshirt that barely covered to my thighs, the neck so ripped it was falling off my shoulders. My hair was in its normal morning disarray and my eyes would be puffed with sleep. I admired how he ignored it and managed a slight, harried smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Du Prion. Sir Hellsing was wondering when you would e rising."

"How diplomatic," I yawned. "She would have been more honest to tell me to et my ass out of bed." The retainer stiffened. "Sorry," I added, not sorry a bit. "Is 'now' a good answer?" I asked with another yawn.

He looked closely at me. "Are you alright, Miss? You look very tired- are the accommodations unsatisfactory?"

"Oh, I didn't sleep very well. I had this funky dream and it kind of kept me awake. Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go." I yawned again, and at least I managed to cover this one with one hand.

Walter was frowning. "Very well, I shall tell Sir Integra to expect you." He gave a half bow and moved away. I closed the door and went to clean up. It was only when I was sitting on the bed lacing up my boots that I began to wonder about the frown. Why would my dreams make the old guy look worried? Or maybe he was just concerned about me in general. _And I didn't think he cared_, I thought dryly, finishing the lacings and stomping my feet down just to be sure. A quick check of the clock showed it was just past four in the afternoon. _Nice_, I grumbled internally, _now she'll think I'm a slacker as well._

Sir Hellsing obviously did think that, and much worse of me, once I staggered into her presence, my boots clacking on the marble flooring. She glared at me over the rim of her cup of tea for a moment, and then set it down with a click. "Good afternoon, Genevieve," she said with a snap in her voice, and it took a great deal of willpower not to flinch. Then anger of my own straightened my spine. Did I give a toss about her disapproval? _I'm an adult_, I thought to myself, _and I'm entitled to lie around all day if I feel like it._

As insolently as I possibly could, I sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk, hanging one leg over the arm. "What's up, cuz?" I asked cheerfully, and instantly I knew I'd gone too far. Her eyes darkened, and her mouth tightened. I was struck by the resemblance to the girl in my dream, and this time I did flinch. For a split second, the taste of blood flooded my mouth, and my gorge rose. I looked away from her, swallowing hard, fighting the urge to retch.

She let the silence sit for a moment, then, in a voice that would have stripped the warmth from a furnace, said, "I want you to go out with Walter this evening. Do exactly as he says." She paused, eyeing me, watching me trying not to throw up on her floor. "Are you alright?" she asked, as if the words were choking her.

"Fine," I croaked. "Go with Walter. Do what he says. Can I go now?"

"You are dismissed," she said, turning back to her paperwork, pretending not to notice as I left the room, bent slightly, one hand over my mouth. Once again, I rested against the wall beside her office door, breathing deeply, trying to regain control. Once again, Walter scared the hell out of me by speaking my name from behind me.

A tide of anger swept away the sick feeling. "What does she think I am, some kind of dog she can order around where she likes?"

He studied me calmly. "Sir Integra thinks its time for you to understand what it is the Hellsing Organisation actually does."

"Oh," I replied, the wind temporarily deserting my sails.

"If you would follow me?" he asked, turning to head down the corridor. I sighed, and followed after. _Like a faithful dog,_ my brain snidely added.

I sat in the lushly appointed car and tried not to squirm. We'd been driving for an hour or so, and my patience was wearing thin. I'd seen more of London than I ever thought I would, and now we were outside the city, in a run down section of warehouses. The sun was going down in a ball of orange and red fire in the distance, enhanced by the layer of smog that perpetually hung over the city. Walter was being uncommunicative, which was terribly annoying, because I didn't like his choice in radio stations and I'd forgotten to bring my music player. But I had not yet been reduced to kicking the back of his seat in a childish fashion.

All of a sudden, he was pulling the car over and killing the engine. "We've arrived, Miss Du Prion." There was something in his voice, something I couldn't place, but he was opening his door and stepping out, so I hastened to do the same. There were muted voices, the crackle of radios, and the sound of boots on concrete just around the corner of a warehouse. As I walked in Walters' shadow around said corner, I stopped, stunned. It seemed to me that an entire army was lounging around there, armed to the teeth and wearing balaclavas. It was only on closer inspection that I recognised Captain Bernadotte by the long fall of his braided hair, and the whole thing took on a slightly less frightening cast. I had lost Walter for a moment, and I hurried to catch up, ignoring the looks I was getting.

Walter was having a few quiet words with Pip, but he closed his mouth when I appeared. A frown was creasing his brow, and he looked about to say something, but shook his head. He nodded to Pip, and stepped back to stand beside an armoured van. Pip pulled off his balaclava and gave me a sour smile. "You're supposed to go in there." He pointed one had at a dilapidated warehouse with boarded up windows. "I'm supposed to tell you that everything you need to know about the organisation is in there." He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Oh, and take this with you." He held out a gloved hand. Resting in it was a small silvery gun. I gaped at him for a moment.

"What?" I finally managed to squeak. Pip simply reached out and pressed the gun into my hand.

"Safety's off, round's chambered. Just point and shoot." He turned me towards the building and gave me a little shove. "You should go. We don't want to be here all night." I turned to look appealingly at Walter. There was no help there. He face looked as if it was set in stone. _Great_, I thought, _just great._ Hesitantly, I moved towards the doorway.

"We'll be waiting when you're finished," Bernadotte called out. I resisted the urge to flip him the finger and moved into the darkness inside the warehouse.

I tripped and stumbled less than three meters from the door. Grumbling under my breath, I stopped to let my eyes adjust to the dimness. The place was a wreck. Rubbish covered the floor, and there were gaping holes in the walls. A set of stairs across the room lead upwards, looking rickety and dangerous. A light breeze swirled through the gaps in the boards over the windows, and there was an indefinable scent in the air, that vaguely reminded me of spoiled meat. All in all, it wasn't a pretty sight. I kicked moodily at the remains of a newspaper. _All I'll need to know, huh?_ I thought. _Maybe it means that the Hellsing Organisation is really messy._ I headed towards the stairs. The quicker I looked this heap over the quicker I could leave.

I kept to the side of the stairs as I climbed them. From experience in the old buildings at Sister Theresa's, I knew that the middle of the treads were more likely to drop me through, causing a bad case of splinters in embarrassing places. I gave a little grin at the memory, remembering that Father Dominic, the hot, handsome priest with first aid skills had been the first to my rescue. Ah, the wonder of watching a priest blush beet red.

At the top of the stairs a hallway lead off to the right, down into murky darkness. I stepped gingerly forward, then wrinkled my nose at the gun in my hand. I was about to slip it into my pocket when I heard a noise behind me, causing me to whirl around. Nothing was there. "Pip?" I called out. "Is that you?" The darkness seemed to swallow my voice without a trace. A chill crept over my flesh. "Pip, this isn't funny," I snapped. Again, there was no answer from in front of me. Behind me though, I heard a low moaning. I jumped. That sounded like an injured person.

"Hello?" I called, moving towards the sound. The sound of shuffling feet came towards me, and a figure staggered through the shadows. It stopped, a shambling figure, swaying on its feet, still moaning. The sun must have been just about to set at that moment, because a beam of light fell through the window behind me and fell full on the thing's face. I clamped my jaws together on a scream. Its skin was grey and peeling, and I could smell its stench from where I stood, the stench of dead meat. It held a rotting arm in one long nailed hand, which it lifted and gnawed on absently. It opened its mouth and moaned again, and I felt a flash of terror at the look of its teeth and the smell of blood that was carried to me. It moved slowly as if it was injured or uncertain, but it was defiantly coming towards me. I did the only thing my brain would allow me to do. I turned and ran.

The thing was on me before I could make the stairs, knocking us both against the wall. Somehow I managed to have my knees drawn up, feet planted on its hips, knees grinding against its chest. It snarled and snapped, slashing wildly at me with its clawed fingertips. With a scream of effort I knocked it back down the hall. It came back at me immediately again, and this time I aimed the gun and fired.

It looked around, and noticed the hole in the wall. It roared and launched itself again. I only just got my feet up in time. Whimpering in terror, screaming for help, I shoved the gun between its teeth and pulled the trigger. The back of its head blew out, showing me with gore. It staggered back a step, then collapsed onto the landing and was still.

Somehow I made it out of the warehouse. The gun was loosely held in one hand, and I was absently aware of the cool feeling of a drop of thickened blood making it's way down and over my arm. Pip looked up as I appeared in the doorway, and he jolted. Then he hurried forwards, one hand outstretched. I shied away as he came close, and chose to ignore the concern in his eyes. "Gen-" he began. I lifted a hand, and strangely he fell silent. I walked over to Walter, and again ignored the concern in his  
eyes.

"I want to go home," I stated simply. He nodded, then fumbled behind him for a canteen of water.

"Ah, would you like to clean up a little first?" I slowly nodded, and took the bottle. As I was pouring it over my hands and face, I heard a voice behind me.

"Well done for survivin', girl. You just won me twenty quid." I froze in place, then, slowly, muscles aching, I turned around. One of the men was grinning at me, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I heard Pip groan behind me. With water dripping off my face I thought about that comment as my heartbeat slowed and began to pound in my body. _Someone made a bet on my survival_. Boom. _They knew that thing was in there_. Boom. _They are Integra's private army and take orders from her_. Boom. _That bitch tried to kill me_. Glacial rage swept through me. I turned again to Walter, and something in my expression caused him to step back.

"I would really like to return to the mansion now. I would like to have a word with my cousin." My grip tightened around the gun until my knuckles were white.

"Maybe you'd like to give me that back," Pip said nervously.

"Maybe I wouldn't," I replied coldly. "Walter, car, now." I stalked back around the corner, holding onto the rage. If it shattered into a hot rage, there was no telling what I would do. I would only allow that to happen when I was in my cousin's presence. I gave a cold smile, and held onto my patience, waiting for Walter to start the car.

The entire trip back was a reverse of the first. Walter kept trying to get me to talk, and I kept ignoring him. I sat in a small puddle on the back seat, feeling my rage seethe inside. I barely waited for the car to stop at the entrance before I yanked the door open and flew up the front stairs. This time I was eager to see her.

I shoved the doors open, allowing them to crash into the walls on either side. I stalked across the floor until I stood before the desk. I fought for the control to speak in a tone less than a scream, and all the while she looked at me with a little Mona Lisa smile on her face.

"Did you know?" I demanded eventually.

She took a deep puff on her cigar. "I knew." Her voice was calm.

Without warning my temper boiled over and my voice rose to a shout. "And you sent me in there alone? You sent me to die?!"

My blood turned to ice as a voice murmured in my ear, cold breath rushing past my neck. "You were never alone. _I_ was there." Slowly I turned to stare into a pair of crimson eyes. "And you're a _terrible_ shot."

"Genevieve Hellsing, meet Alucard, the most effective weapon of the Hellsing Organisation," Integra said. The name sent a shock through me, causing my skin to break out in goose bumps. All rage was forgotten as the memory of the dream flashed through my mind.

"You sent that dream," I whispered, suddenly weak kneed. "I was you." He nodded, and a smile stretched his lips. I stared at the fangs in his mouth with a sense of mounting horror. "You're a _vampire_!" I staggered out reach, knocking over a chair in my haste to get away.

"And the servant of the Hellsing family, under my command," Integra said quietly. "I sent him with you tonight to ensure you would not be harmed." I looked him up and down - a charcoal grey suit, under a red frock coat, white shirt closed at the neck with a red ribbon. A big red hat completed the ensemble, but the first thing to draw attention was his eyes. The colour of blood, they summoned ones gaze, and it took effort to look away.

All at once my body made known just how much I'd abused it. I staggered where I stood, the aftermath of running on pure adrenaline ripping through me. My legs went out from under me and I sat down hard on the floor. The gun clattered to the marble, and I looked at it. I did not have the energy to pick it up. "Why didn't you tell me?" I heard my mouth speak the words, but I was disconnected from them.

"Could you have believed me? Every sane person knows that vampires don't exist." Integra's voice was strangely gentle. "The Hellsing Organisation has a sacred mission from God to destroy all of these abominations, whenever and where ever they appear."

"Oh," was all I could manage. I was able to add, "I think I need to sleep now." Everything went blurry, then black.

_Notes: I know I've a tendency to jump between the manga and the anime, but hey, tough. D And thanks to all who've reviewed and who've kept the faith. Sorry this chapter took so long, and hopefully the next one won't._


	6. Chapter 5

_At the beginning of this chapter, I wish to thank all my reviewers. Your sweet commentaries are the ambrosia that keeps this story flowing. Xenia, wellduh…, Psychogrl, Vic, One Who Spins Flags, Logos, FoxKit2525, Alucard's Bane, Gallac, Jan McNeville, cryearthstearsfalltou, mslcat, pruningshears and Redrose Moon, thank you from the bottom of my little gothic heart.  
_

I woke to darkness with a pounding head, aching muscles and a sincere wish for unconsciousness once again. I lay, breathing slowly; eyes screwed shut, waiting for it to pass. Unfortunately, when it did, nature made me too aware that I'd been in bed for a very long time. Groaning softly, I rolled out of bed and staggered across the floor. Never in my life had I realised just how far a distance three meters could be. With nature's call attended to, I managed to stay upright long enough to stare at myself in the mirror. Black smudges under my eyes stood in stark contrast to the paleness of my face. My lips were bloodless and described a thin line, accented by the ring at the corner of my mouth. I could see the bruises spreading over my shoulders, a sickening reddish-purple that radiated heat. I was staring stupidly at them, tempted to touch them, when the memories washed over me.

_The dark warehouse. The smell of off meat. The creature at the top of the hall. Having it on top of me, clawing and moaning. Shoving the gun in its face, pulling the trigger. The hideous shower of gore._

My stomach twisted, and I leaned over the sink and vomited helplessly.

Fifteen unhappy minutes later I shuffled back into my bedroom. The bed looked warm and inviting, but I turned and moved out onto the balcony for a moment. The moon still rode in the sky, and the stars still wheeled overhead. The chill breeze caressed me; bring me relief from the bruises for a moment. The earth still turned beneath my feet, the seasons still continued their stately course, but nothing would ever be the same again. The dead walked – and I saw it with my own two eyes.

I was trembling a little as I slipped back under the covers. I curled into a foetal position and pulled the blankets over my head. _Please Gods,_ I begged silently, _let me not dream.  
_

I felt much better the next time consciousness visited me. As I slowly opened my eyes, I felt the surreal nature of it all – beautiful bed, sunrise shining softly through the window, birds singing… And the knowledge that vampires are real. I sat up, rubbing at my eyes and yawning. _Maybe at some point this will all make sense_, I grumbled internally, and then swung out of my bed. My shoulders were incredibly sore and warned me it would be a bad idea to stretch; and my stride was still uneven as I paced across the floor to the bathroom. This time when I gazed into the mirror I was relieved to see that I had a little colour back, and the bags under my eyes had faded. My bruises were now a wonderful shade of purple, and as I stared at them, I had an uncomfortable thought. _Who changed me into my nightdress? Who cleaned me up? Please don't tell me it was the butler. _I looked down at my hands when the thought of washing up occurred to me. I almost vomited again when I saw I still had flecks of brown under my nails. Not stopping to think, I tore off my nightshirt and jumped into the shower.

I was wrinkled and waterlogged when I finally stepped out. My skin was red from scrubbing, but at least I felt _clean_. Staring at my naked body in the mirror, I decided to find out just how bad it was, and lifted my hair over one shoulder, turning to present my back to the reflective surface. The bruising was extensive, covering two-thirds of my back as well as the triceps area of my upper arms. I also noted with some chagrin that I had more bruises on my backside. As I gathered my hair into a towel turban, I also lifted my nightdress from the floor. My rapid shedding of it hadn't helped any – it was now past the point of being a nightdress and into the territory of rags. I bundled it up and shoved it into the bin in the bathroom, pulling another towel around my body as I moved back into the bedroom.

My muscles were more relaxed after the hot soaking they'd received, so getting dressed was less of a chore than I expected. I fished my favourite necklace from the depths of my suitcase and, after slipping it over my head and under the neck of my top, I looked around for my boots. I blinked twice when I saw them just inside the door, hardly believing that these were mine. For the first time in their life, they were _shiny_. It was only after I put them on that I really believed that they were my old, comfortable boots, and I found myself admiring their gloss. Rising to my feet, I ran a hand down and over my clothing, only now just realising how much I'd dressed for psychological comfort. I wore my faded tee shirt with Tux the penguin done large on the front, and my most comfortable, baggy pants, the ones I wore on the days I wanted to tell the world to get lost. A slight, wistful smile curved my lips. I knew I just wanted to curl back up in bed, maybe with a good, trashy romance novel, but at that point my stomach rumbled loudly, so I stepped out the door and went in search of breakfast.

Moving much slower than I usually moved, I stepped gingerly down the main stairs and headed for the dining hall. I was a little surprised to see Pip sitting in front of a heaped plate at the table, and was more surprised by the edgy smile he gave me. He looked… well, almost _afraid_ of me, for want of a better term. I gave him a little nod, not knowing if I was up to conversation yet. I chose mushy foods; a banana, some porridge with honey and milk, and sat opposite the captain, feeling the tense silence in the air, but not knowing what to say.

Pip broke the silence first. "We broke its legs, you know. So you'd have a fighting chance."

I looked up, spoon in hand and half way to my mouth. I lowered it back to the bowl, a frown creasing my face. "Did you? Well, it didn't really make much of a difference." A dark part of my soul enjoyed the way the captain squirmed.

"We were ordered not to tell you. And Walter said that Big Red was going in with you, so…" he stopped, allowing his voice to trail off.

"Big Red?" I asked, confused.

"Alucard. You know, tall, dark, and skinny."

"Oh," I said, my stomach turning over at the memory of those cold, crimson eyes. I pushed the bowl away, the food holding no more savour. "What is he? And what the hell is going on here?" My voice was rising, I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. I was angry and scared, and the captain was a convenient target.

"Perhaps I can answer those questions," a mild British voice said behind me. I jumped, and gasped in pain when my back made brisk contact with the back of the chair.

"I am so going to get you a collar with a bell on it," I snapped at the butler. "Maybe then you'd stop sneaking up on me!"

"My apologies, Miss Du Prion," he said, not sounding a bit sorry. "But if you would care to join me in the library, I can and will explain what we do here." Stiffly, I rose, leaving the remainder of my breakfast on the table. I walked past Walter, nose in the air, still angry. It was only when he closed the door to the library behind us that I got a good look at his face and felt a little ashamed. He'd done nothing to me; in fact he'd been down right nice – what reason did I have to treat him like this? As I took a look around, I saw one of the tables loaded with books and papers, and the butler headed for it, standing beside it, obviously waiting for me to sit down. Gingerly, I did so, and ran my eyes over the spines of the books. They were blank, looking hand tooled and home bound. The papers told me little more, looking like inventory lists and pages of names and dates.

The butler sat, and simply looked at me for a moment. "I do not know exactly where to begin." He settled back, like an old uncle getting ready to tell a story. "I'm sure you've at least heard of the story of Dracula?" At my nod, he continued. "It was actually propaganda, released at the request of the Hellsing family by a drunken Irishman named Bram Stoker. Half-truths and outright lies were mixed together to turn vampires into something that the common man would scoff at and believe a figment of the imagination. The stories did persist, but the Hellsing family was now able to work in secret, destroying the undead. The first head of the family was knighted by Queen Victoria, and ever since has been the Order Of Royal Protestant knights, in service to God and the Crown, hunting down and executing all vampires in the United Kingdom."

I closed my mouth, and my voice was timorous. "So that's what the family does? What Integra does?'

"She commands the army and orders the strikes. She is the heart and head of the Organisation."

"And she commands Alucard," I said, making it a question.

Walter gave a little sigh, and was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. "A moment," he said, and moved to open it. A rather busty girl, about my age, stepped in when he gestured. She had tousled, strawberry blonde hair, and was wearing a short blue uniform. She was also wearing a pair of dark glasses, and she approached the table with a smile on her face. She offered me a gloved hand, and I automatically took it. Her fingers were shockingly cold.

"Hi," she said brightly, "you must be Genevieve. I'm Seras." Walter dragged a chair over for her, and she sat with a sigh, running one hand through her hair as the other removed her sunglasses. A pair of bright, red eyes stared at me, and I was on my feet before I knew I'd moved.

"You're…" I managed out loud, the words tangling on my tongue.

"I'm a vampire," she admitted, leaning back in her chair. Walter sat back down and just looked at me. I blinked several times.

"So there's two of you," I managed at last. At least this one didn't exude the aura of menace that the male one did.

"Yes," she replied cheerfully, and through her smile I saw a pair of small, pointed teeth in the roof of her mouth. As she wasn't threatening me, I hesitantly sat back down again, on the edge of my seat. "Sir Integra asked me to come and explain a few things to you. She said you might have some questions that I'm… uniquely suited to answer." There was laughter in her voice, a bubbly, vivacious nature that I found myself liking.

I looked at her smile and found the courage to say, "I thought all vampires would be moody and stuff." She laughed again.

"No way! I'm just not that kind of girl."

"How long…" I swallowed, hoping the question wasn't rude. "How long have you been a vampire?"

"Going on ten years now. I was just a hapless little police girl, in the wrong place at a very wrong time, and I ended up being changed by Alucard." She saw me wince a little at the name. "Ah, you've obviously met him. He tends to have that effect on people." It was impossible not to smile back at her. "He brought me back here to the Hellsing Organisation, and, as they say, the rest is history."

"So you drink blood?" I asked, fascinated in spite of myself.

"Yes," she said, "mostly medical blood that we get because it will expire."

"Mostly?" I spoke before I considered it. A shadow seemed to pass over her face, and her eyes darkened for a heartbeat. "Forget I asked," I said hastily. I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it back and away from my face. "But I don't get it," I said, allowing my confusion to have voice. "This organisation hunts down and kills vampires. So how did it end up with two on the payroll?"

Walter intervened. "Miss Victoria was an unfortunate victim of circumstance. And Alucard… The best way to describe him is that he's hereditary."

"Like a genetic disease," Seras quipped. There was a hard edge to her smile. Walter looked at her for a moment, and I felt even more confused by the currents in the room.

"Alucard was originally an experiment that the Hellsing family worked on for a few generations, enhancing his powers," he continued.

"Generations?" I demanded. "Just how old is he? And where did he come from?" Walter waved a hand at the bookshelf covered walls.

"If you really want to know the particulars, all the diaries of every head of the Hellsing family are in here somewhere. But his origins mean nothing. It is what he is now that should concern you."

"Oh?" a new voice asked, deep and silky. "And what is that?" I looked up in time to see a red-coated figure walk_ through _the damn wall like it wasn't there. I was proud of myself. This time I didn't jump up from my chair and back away. I forced myself to study him. Tall, dark and skinny, Pip had named him, but that wasn't entirely accurate. He was thin, with an angular structure to his face, but it was more the stripped-down look of a predator. He wore Victorian-era garments, and seemed completely at home in them. On someone else, the look would fail – on him, they looked natural.

"Alucard," Walter said stiffly, "I believe Sir Integra said you were not to be present at this… meeting." The vampire smiled with pure malevolence, and I shuddered.

"My Master said I was not to _interfere_," he said calmly, sinking into a chair and pinning me with his crimson gaze. "Does it look like I'm interfering?"

"Yes, it does," Seras snapped, and I saw that her hands were clenched into fists. _What is going on between these two?_

"I was the Police Girls' master until she started to drink of her own free will. She now finds my methods and my presence… repugnant." His tone contained a smirk. "She is very young. She'll learn." Seras lunged to her feet, but I was more concerned with the fact that he answered my unspoken thought. _No way, he can't hear what I'm thinking_, I scoffed internally. "Yes, I can," he added, leaning back in the chair and tipping his hat further forward on his head to hide his eyes. My mouth opened in shock.

"I must insist you leave," Walter said, if possible even more stiffly than before. Alucard stood up, his coat swirling around him.

"Very well," he said, but there was a threat in his voice. "I will see you again," he added to me, then gave a little, mocking bow and stepped back through the wall. Walter let out an explosive breath, and I found myself shivering.

"Well," he said into the silence following Alucard's exit, "that was the other resident vampire."

"He's insane," Seras interjected roughly. "Don't listen to anything he tells you."

I blinked. "What is going on with you two? He _made_ you?"

She sat down again and sighed. "My former master thinks that humanity equals weakness." Seras put heavy emphasis on the word 'former'. "We began to disagree on how… well, basically how my life should be. He wants me to burn all my bridges, embrace being a monster, but I won't do it." Her voice was fierce. "I can be a vampire, but I don't have to be inhuman, not like him." I nodded, a little frightened by her intensity.

"So Integra controls him," I said, a little sourly. "No wonder she doesn't have a boyfriend if she's got him on a leash." Walter and Seras both stared at me blankly. "He is kind of, well, cute, in a psychotic, I-going-to-eat-your-heart way," I added. Seras was a little quicker on the uptake than the butler.

"No, they're not like that," she hastened to assure me. "She's the focus of the spells that keep him a servant. Sir Integra stops his most destructive impulses. As much as I dislike him, he could flatten the city if he wanted to. And he very nearly did, about ten years ago." I gave a little frown, putting the pieces together, and for what seemed to be the millionth time today my mouth dropped open.

"But that was a terrorist attack!" I exclaimed. "They planted bombs and set off gas that made people hallucinate!" Seras and Walter were shaking their heads.

"That was Alucard fighting with a rival Nosferatu." Walter's voice was dry.

"Nos..?" I asked weakly, once again mystified.

"Nosferatu," the butler repeated. "It's one of the more… traditional terms for the undead."

"The older undead," Seras corrected him. "Young 'uns like me are just vampires." She stopped, and a sunny smile creased her face. "I've been called other things, though. Draculina, you monster, you know, that kind of thing." I found myself laughing along with her, but her eyes were serious when she finished. "Be very wary of Alucard. I can't say that often enough. He's a killer, a remorseless killer that enjoys playing with his… prey. You should be safe because he is sworn to the Hellsing line, but still…" Seras allowed her voice to trail off.

"What about you?" I asked, a little daringly. "Does my cousin control you, too?" A smile twisted her lips.

"In the sense that I work for her, yes. In the personal sense, no one holds my leash."

Walter recaptured my attention. "Now that you are a little more familiar with the duties of Hellsing, Sir Integra suggested that I give you a more general overview of the day to day happenings." He leaned forwards and pulled a sheet of paper towards him, tipping it so I could see the names and dates on it. "Now, this is a listing of the sightings of ghouls over the past two weeks in the metropolitan area."

"But what is a ghoul? They're obviously different from you," I said, making a little gesture towards Seras. She was the one who answered me.

"A ghoul is what you get when a vampire makes a meal of someone who isn't a virgin," she said bluntly. "They're the ones the vampires use as foot soldiers. They are cannibals, vicious, unclean dead things that try and eat anything in their path." The memories seared across my mind. Rotting grey skin, foul teeth tearing into the arm.

"So that's what it was," I murmured aloud.

"What _what_ was?" she asked, a little confused.

"I've already seen one of those things," I answered, rubbing my hands over my forearms to try and get rid of the goose bumps. "My sainted cousin decided that would be the quickest way to make me believe in vampires." Seras blinked, and her mouth parted.

"They didn't…" she left it hanging, making a slight gesture with her hand.

"Oh, yes, they did," I replied, a shadow of anger gliding over me. "They put me in a warehouse with a gun and let one of them try and make a meal out of me."

"Did they give you one of the M-16's?" she asked, obviously curious. "Otherwise it would have been kind of unfair." It was my turn to blink.

"Excuse me?" Walter was all but forgotten.

"It was my idea," she announced. "I was sick of having to prove that there are real monsters out there, so I suggested that any new troops be sent into a fight first." She smiled, and there was a dark edge to it. "It worked like a charm." I closed my eyes, leaning back slowly, fighting down a sick feeling. _Her idea?_

"I don't know if I can handle this," I sighed.

"Yes, you can," Walter said, his voice soothing. "The strength of Hellsing runs in your veins."

"I'm not a Hellsing," I snapped back, opening my eyes. "I'm a Du Prion. I don't see what all this has to do with me." Walter and Seras traded a glance, and I wanted to yell. "Let me guess," I added in a sneer. "I'll need to wait until Sir Integra tells me what it has to do with me." Walter smiled, and drew my attention back to the paper.

I went back to school that day. For the rest of the morning, Walter, with help from Seras, outlined just what the Hellsing Organisation got up to, down to the amount of ammunition they usually went through. After lunch, I was handed over to the Wild Geese. I was taught basic self-defence, then taken to the firing range, but one idea was drilled into me more than anything else. _Never drop the weapon._ I was physically and emotionally exhausted when I trudged back inside at seven for dinner. It didn't stop the shock I received when I walked into the dining room and saw my cousin sitting at the head of the table. _Great, _I thought, _just what I need. _Hesitantly, I walked forwards and sat, really not looking forwards to the meal that was to come.

_Whew, long chapter! Thanks for sticking with me, and keep those reviews coming!_


	7. Chapter 6

_And again with the thanks to my reviewers. You know, this'd probably go faster if more people reviewed… hint, hint Even if you think it sucks, I like to know that people are actually reading it, because I'm too cheap to upgrade. I like flames. They keep me warm at night…  
_

I crossed to the table slowly, keeping my eyes on my cousin. She was dressed as she always seemed to be dressed; olive suit, blue tie and silver cross pin, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. The only difference was that she'd removed her gloves to eat. She sat, straight backed; still exuding the aura of control and power, and that wasn't fair. She couldn't be as commanding at the dinner table as she was at her desk, something just wasn't right about that. Sir Hellsing gestured, and I gingerly eased myself into the chair at her right hand, more than a little conscious of the bruises. The Wild Geese had been cautious and considerate, but there's only so much they could do when they were teaching me throws and kicks. My hands were also smarting from the rounds I'd fired from the handgun Pip had given me. I was better with the smaller weapon, but still a really bad shot.

I kept watch on Integra out of the corner of my eye. I was hoping to see her as discomforted as I was, but I was disappointed. I think my cousin would be quite at home on a bed of nails, and not change expression. I swallowed a sigh. This was going to be deadly. I left any commentary to her, examining my nails and the chips left in them from the weapons practice. I was just glad I'd taken time to clean up and get the gun powder out from under them. A hesitant maid brought out a bottle of wine, which my cousin refused and I accepted eagerly. _Maybe a few drinks would take the edge off this evening,_ I thought. _Nah._

The same maid brought the soup, and we ate in silence, the tension level rising with every spoonful. _Go on, say something,_ I silently urged her, but a part of me knew I'd have to speak first. The clink of the fine silverware against the porcelain seemed extra loud in the silence.

"So," I said finally, raking my brain to find something to say after taking a sip of wine. "Who has the good taste in merlot?" _Idiot,_ I added internally, _just come right out and imply she has no taste._

"I leave the selection up to the cook," she replied.

"Oh." The silence continued as the maid took up the bowls and laid out the plates with the main course on it. We were having beef, it seemed, and I was a little surprised that Integra's meat was a little on the bloody side. I concentrated on the food, doing my best to pretend she wasn't there. _If she can do the silent treatment, so can I, _I reasoned. Her voice made me jump.

"Did you enjoy your day?" _Hooray_, I thought, _she's as good at small talk as I am._

My mouth kicked in before my brain. "I must really like those guys. I'm already bruised, and I volunteer to let them bruise me some more. Aside from that, it was great." I blinked and swallowed, but, unless my eyes were deceiving me, there was a small smile on my cousin's mouth.

"They can be a little rough," she allowed. "But knowing how to defend oneself in this… line of work is paramount."

"I gathered that," I replied, a smile of my own on my lips. "How often do you go out with the boys?"

"Almost never." _Again with the wishful thinking, but is she sounding almost wistful?_ "I normally get there when all the work is done and they're mopping up, if I go at all." The silence descended again, but a little more comfortable this time. The main was finished, and the considerate maid brought out the dessert, chocolate cake with a sprinkling of nuts. _Yummy_. My cousin spoke again, recalling my attention as I considered the cake, and where to attack first. "You were excused from services on Sunday, but you will be required to attend next week." _Services? Church? What?_

"Pardon?" I asked aloud.

"Church services," she said with exaggerated patience. "I know you're… Catholic, but we should be able to work around that."

"I'm not Catholic," I said before I could stop myself, and then took another drink of wine to stop myself from saying anything else.

She frowned. "But you attend a Catholic school."

"So?" I replied. "That doesn't automatically make me one."

"So what denomination are you?" she asked, still frowning, something I couldn't quite read in her eyes. I looked back at my plate, the cake not quite as appetizing.

"I'm not a Christian," I said finally. I felt like squirming on my chair, and that was only partially the fault of the bruises. I glanced up to see the frown on her face had intensified.

"I beg your pardon?" she said eventually. "I thought I just heard you say you were not a Christian." _Damn, I knew this was coming ever since I saw her and that bloody cross._ Instead of answering, I sighed, reached up, and pulled down the neck of my shirt, laying bare the pentacle that hung around my neck. From the way she pulled back, you'd have thought I'd just taken a swing at her.

"Being basically raised in what amounts to a nunnery, you'd be amazed at how good alternative religions look," I said. "I'm Wiccan, and proud of it. I just don't like to rub people's noses in it." I let go of the tee shirt's neck, covering the pentacle again. I watched her blink, and a little part of me was glad to have rendered her speechless. Most of me was sighing at the reaction. _You'd think the mighty queen of the vampire slayers would be a little more cosmopolitan,_ I thought spitefully.

"You're a pagan," Integra said finally.

"Yes," I replied, and it was my turn for exaggerated patience. "I could even describe myself as a witch, but I don't do all that Crafty stuff."

"But God is real," she said, sounding confused. "God is –"

I interrupted her. "Your god is real to you. So are mine to me. It's all a matter of perspective."

She stiffened in her chair. "There is only one true God."

"Really?" I found myself snapping. "And which one would that be? The rip off of the Dying God called Jesus? Or the copy of the Hebrew Yahweh?" I swallowed the rest of what I was going to say when I saw the look of pure rage on her face. If my aim was to piss off my cousin, I'd succeeded admirably. Her voice was cold and flat.

"How dare you speak about something you have no conception of? You are a child, Genevieve. In time you'll come to see the true nature of God."

"The true nature?" I gave a high, false laugh. "Is that old testament or new testament?" Integra snapped to her feet, chair screeching back against the polished floor.

"What we do we do with the blessings of God. You would be wise to remember that." She was beautiful in her anger, my cousin, her fury an almost visible cloud around her as she stalked from the room. I looked down at my plate with a soft, bitter laugh. _Well done, you idiot_, I thought. _If she had a high opinion of you before, I bet she loves you now._ I stood, pushing the plate away. I had defiantly had enough to eat. The maid slunk back, and began to gather the remains of the meal. Before she could remove it, I grabbed the bottle of wine.

"Waste not, want not, hey?" I said to her. She gave me a frightened look and continued at her work. Bottle in hand, I strolled out into the entryway. She would have gone to her office, I knew it. I swigged directly from the bottle's neck, swallowing until I needed to breathe, and felt the floor tilt a little in the alcohol's rush. I lowered it and stood there, eyes closed, breathing fast, trying not to bring it all back up. _It'd be a terrible waste_, I thought, and surprised myself by giggling, the hiccupping. Things began to take on a little softer edge, and I found myself thinking about the cellar. Several things clicked at once, and I realized just why she was trying to keep me away. _Where else would you keep a vampire_, I thought. With alcohol fueled courage I started down the stone stairs for the second time, although not entirely sure why I was going. Partly defiance, partly stupidity; for I feared Alucard, and partly drunkenness moved my feet, but most of all it was like I was being pulled down there.

I moved through the corridors under the mansion, drinking at intervals, trying not to think about what I was almost hoping not to find. But when I rounded that last corner, there he was, sitting in that chair, full glass at his elbow, one foot planted on the opposite knee. The ruby liquid fooled me for a moment; until, in a sickening moment, I realized it must be blood. I stopped, swaying a little on my feet. Knowing he had my full attention, he lifted the glass and sipped. "Little Hellsing," he rumbled in a voice full of hatred, "how nice of you to visit." It was right then that I realized just how much of a bad idea this was. I tried for a light tone.

"I got bored," I said, hearing my accent thicken in the state I was in.

"And drunk," he added, slashing a glance at the bottle I had a death grip on. "How… disappointing."

"Why?" I was confused.

"You needed dutch courage to come calling." The vampire shook his head mockingly.

"French courage, actually." I looked down and the label and blinked until I could focus. "From 1996. Obviously a good year." I drank again, in distain of him. _Screw him,_ I thought, _I have every right to get drunk._

He regarded me through narrow eyes, and I fought down a shiver. It seemed to please him, because a smile spread over his face. "What do you want, little Hellsing?" he asked.

"For you to stop calling me that, for a start," I replied without thinking. The smile spread into a grin, and he pinned me with those crimson eyes. "I want to know…" I forced the words out. "What have you got against me?" One of his eyebrows quirked up.

"I?" he said, his voice thick with scorn. "What could I possibly have against you?"

"Oh, yes, you treat all the girls this way." I gestured with the bottle. "Integra is going to great lengths to keep me away from you. I want to know why."

"Greater lengths than you know, little Hellsing. She forbid me to seek you out, you know." In one movement so fluid nothing human could have made it he lowered his foot to the floor and removed his hat, probably to make his gaze more effective. "My Master did not want me near you at all." The hatred is back in his voice, and I had to force myself not to step back.

"So instead you invade my head, make me dream some stupid little scene that proves what? That you're a monster?" I knew it was stupid as I was saying it, but I couldn't stop myself. He threw back his head and laughed, a maniacal edge to it.

"Proves? You think I made that up?" All of a sudden Alucard was serious. "That was my first memory of waking, back when Integra was just a little girl." My breath caught in my throat. "I was chained in that dudgeon for _twenty years_, by those whose blood you share. And now that you are here…" He stopped, his head cocked, his eyes intense. "You don't know?" he said, his voice incredulous. "She hasn't told you?" He broke off into laughter, head leaning back into the chair. "Oh, Integra, this is simply _delicious_!" I took a step back, nervous. His laughter trailed off, and he looked at me, his eyes shining with mirth.

"What?" I demanded, my voice a little shaky.

"As a member of the Hellsing family, I choose to take that as a command," Alucard said, his voice still thick with laughter. "Do you know who the man on the stairs was?" I shook my head, beginning to be impatient. "He was Integra's uncle. _Your father._" I froze where I stood, not breathing, not blinking, and refusing to understand what he was saying. "He tried to kill her and take over this little band. But instead –" I lifted my hand to stop him, not wanting to hear him say it. _Instead she killed him_, my mind added. The bottle slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor, filling the room with the reek of wine. I staggered back a step, feeling horror fill me.

"No," I found myself saying, "no, you lie."

"I was there, little Hellsing. And you saw it through my eyes." The bastard was enjoying this. "Even at the tender age of fourteen, my Master had a talent for cutting to the heart of the problem. Her seat as head of the family would never be secure so long as your father was alive." I shook my head again, taking another step backwards. It all made a horrible kind of sense. My branch of the family being struck from the peerage, my cousin's obvious loathing of me, it all fit.

"So now I know why she hates me. Why do you?" I heard myself ask.

"The Queen is… unimpressed with Integra's reluctance to marry. She was given a choice to either give the family to you or marry and breed. She decided to try you out before deciding." My head was whirling. _I wonder if he'd mind if I threw up on the floor? _"You may very well be my next Master, and you're not up to the job." _Don't I know it,_ I thought. I didn't know what to think, what to feel. I found myself shaking my head again.

"I have to go," I said absently, turning and walking away. The vampires' laughter followed me down the corridors, and danced around me as I threw myself down on my bed. As I slipped into sleep, fully clothed, it haunted me even then.


	8. Interlude

Hello, everyone, it's your friendly author here, just letting you know that the waters of inspiration have dried up on this little fiction, so don't expect anything else for a while. Although, you could always email me with a suggestion or two – I'd be grateful! I know how it ends, I just don't know what happens in the mean time…

Anyway, cheers,

LadyNemisis


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